Preface: This post is about my traumatic (at best) foray into the world of weaponry. I really don’t “get” the handgun thing. I don’t think that I ever will. But if you’re someone who hunts animals, please know that I get that. It has a purpose. At the end of the season you end up with a freezer stocked with venison sausage and a jar full of jerky. This post is not about that kind of thing.
Oh man, kittens.
Last Christmas, Santa gave Mom, Marcus and I gift certificates for a gun safety class at the local gun shop/shooting range (Dad and Billy are practiced shooters). Since Christmas 2011 is less than a month away, it was definitely time to use them.
So what better way to use part of a long holiday weekend than to cross another goal off the list?
Mom insisted that we get to the location 15 minutes before it opened to make sure that we would all be on-time. What that really meant is that we had 15 minutes to survey our fellow range-goers. That also gave me 15 minutes to think about whether or not I was really comfortable knowing that some of these people were legally able to brandish weapons.
Answer: No. Not comfortable.
This was also the point in time where I realized that for the price of our class fees, I could have had a very nice Coach purse.
Not okay in my book.
As the store opened, we filed into the entry way and our instructor lead us back to our classroom. We were greeted by PowerPoint slides, plastic guns, bullet casings and donuts. There’s probably a bad joke in there somewhere, but I just don’t have time to search for it right now.
At the beginning of the class, we were invited to go around the room and share why we were there.
Most answers were mundane. But one classmate was a real treasure.
You see, Classmate indicated that he was taking the course so that he could open up a gun shop in Peru.
From there, he asked the instructor about Silencers (super-illegal) which somehow disintegrated into a lecture about the black market (also illegal) and people who smoke bath salts.
I think y’all are quickly coming to realize that this place was just not my scene.
Or as some girlfriends of mine would describe it, these people just were not a part of my tribe.
After that extremely
surreal bizarre discussion, our instructor segued into telling us all about how shooting on the range is The Greatest stress reliever and how much fun you can have.
Since I don’t feel that it’s appropriate to pass judgement without offering up alternatives, I made a list of things that I find to be effective stress relievers and things that I find to be fantastically fun.
Kat’s Stress Relievers
- Head massages
- Tiffany Blue
- Being surrounded by sterling silver
- Laying in bed with my hot pack
- Dealing with my mitts and paws
Things That Kat Finds to be Fantastically Fun
- Crossing the finish line of a race
- Triumphing in the kitchen
- Drinking champagne
- Finding adorable things in my size on the sale rack
- Visiting active volcanoes
- Dealing with my mitts and paws
Handguns? Not relaxing. Not fun. I don’t think that something that is specifically designed to take the life of another should be seen as such.
As we were wrapping up one of our bathroom breaks, I came back into the classroom to find our instructor regaling half the class with an engaging tale about someone who owned 60 (!) guns.
And then That Classmate Who Wants To Open A Peruvian Gun Store made his comeback with some questions about when he could gun people down. Like…if someone was in his house, would it be okay then? What if they were taking his TV? What about if he was driving in a car? What if someone standing 50 feet away wasn’t far enough away?
After three hours of this insanity intermingled with lessons about bullets and the parts of a gun, we headed out to the range.
So there we are, on the private range, being serenaded by the hellishly rhythmic blast of someone wielding an automatic weapon in the next range over. Mom is busy trying to put her target on the clips upside-down (just in-case she is being attacked by someone who is coming at her upside-down) and I can’t even unload the damn gun, much less unlock it to shoot it.
We got in, we got out.
The finished product.
When I think of the things in this one life of mine that I have been Called to do, I am absolutely positive that this is not it.
Have you ever taken a gun safety class?
Despite the fact that it was horrible (or as Mom described it, The Dementor to Her Soul and a -47 on a scale of 1-10), I would say unequivocally that everyone should attend one. It’s not information that I will ever use again, but it is information that everyone should have.
What do you find to be relaxing/fantastically fun?